


Friend of Fire

by RoseByAnyOtherName17



Series: The Lion, the Wolf and the Dragon [6]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dragonstone, Gen, Negotiations, Sailing, Storytelling, Swordplay, Travel, Waterdancing, Winterfell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 11:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10876092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseByAnyOtherName17/pseuds/RoseByAnyOtherName17
Summary: Arya was the one who told the Northerners that she would be returning to Daenerys Targaryen with Jon Snow, leaving Sansa to rule Winterfell in his absence.They weren't exactly pleased.





	Friend of Fire

**Author's Note:**

> So sorry for the long wait guys .-. it's been crazy lately. But I hope you enjoy! This is the next installment.

Arya would be going back to Daenerys. “I’m the only Stark who has declared for her so far,” she said. “If it came to it, I could lead the Stark army, and none of the Northerners.”

 

“There is no real Stark army,” Sansa protested.

 

“The Wildlings will fight for the Starks,” Tormund said gruffly. “It was the Starks that brought us here. We are the Free Folk, but we’re loyal. We’ll fight with the girl. We’ll protect her.”

 

Jon didn’t like the idea of sending Arya away again. “You just got home,” he argued. “I don’t want to send you away again.”

 

“You have been named King in the North,” Arya told him, “but only by the northerners. Daenerys will want to meet with you, negotiate. If you support her claim, she may support your own, and then she will fight with you against the Night King when the time comes.” Jon looked uncertain, and her eyes hardened. “You are a bastard turned King by his own people,” she pointed out forcefully. “You have fought the army of the dead yourself, you have rescued thousands of Wildlings from beyond the Wall, and you took back Winterfell from the Boltons with half the men. You are prepared for a war, more so than Robb ever was. You do not bear the name Stark, but it’s you Daenerys will wish to meet with all the same, before she even knew of your new title. And I will be going with you, to do what she commands of me. Sansa will stay as Lady of Wintefell.”

 

“The men may not like that,” Sansa warned her.

 

“A new war is coming, and it isn’t with Daenerys Targaryen,” Arya said grimly. “Make them understand that now we must survive the winter and what comes with it. Titles and distribution of land can be taken care of _after_ Westeros is safe from outside threats.”

 

It was Jon who told the remaining Northern lords of their plans. “Our war is with the Night’s King,” he said gravely. “My sister has declared herself for Daenerys Targaryen, who wishes to retake the Seven Kingdoms.” There was outrage, calls for war, but Jon waited until they quieted. “We will not go to war with her,” he said calmly. “Westeros is hers to take; I will negotiate terms with her later. But now, if helping her claim the Iron Throne is what it takes, we will do it. We need her support to defeat the Night King, and she already has one of our own.”

 

“And if she demands we swear fealty?” Lord Manderly asked angrily.

 

Jon stood his ground. “When the time comes, we will negotiate with her,” he said. “But now, we have bigger problems, much bigger than ruling the North ourselves.”

 

For a long moment, there were only the mutters of the men as they discussed this new development. But then Lady Mormont spoke. “What is your intention then, Your Grace?” she inquired.

 

“To go and meet her,” Jon told her, and deadly silence fell. “I will travel with Lady Arya to speak with her and warn her of the White Walkers. After that, I can’t be certain. Sansa will remain here as Lady of Winterfell and get in touch with the Night’s Watch, and will rule the North in my absence. Should something happen to me, I name her as my successor, here in front of all of you now.”

 

“You cannot travel alone,” Lord Glover protested.

 

Arya stood. “The Dothraki, Ironborn and Unsullied that accompanied me will return with us,” she announced, “as well as half of the remaining Free Folk army.” She narrowed her eyes. “I swear to you that no harm will come to my brother.” Her eyes shone like steel, daring anyone to contradict her.

 

“When do you depart?” Lord Manderly asked.

 

“Within the week,” Jon answered. “Lady Sansa will remain here. Any order she gives, I expect to be followed.”

 

The questions dwindled as the northerners grudgingly accepted Jon and Arya’s words, but no one looked entirely satisfied despite Jon’s reassurances. Lady Mormont was the only quiet one in the hall, looking at Arya thoughtfully. Her voice rose over the mutterings of the men, small but strong. “Should we come to an agreement with Daenerys Targaryen, I would like to offer the Mormont army to follow Lady Arya,” she said. “We are small, but we are proud, and we have stood behind the Starks unwaveringly for centuries. My Lady,” and she spoke directly to Arya, “you have survived, and we do not know everything, but it can’t have been easy for you. You have strength, a quality House Mormont has always valued. Will you accept my offer?”

 

Arya quickly covered her surprise. “If Daenerys joins forces with my brother, it may be quite awhile before we return North,” she warned Lady Lyanna. “I will go where she commands, and if you stand with me, so will you.”

 

“Then so be it,” Lady Mormont said decisively.

 

**

 

The Free Folk and the Mormont army totaled close to two thousand men; it would be impossible to travel without drawing attention. “Let them notice,” Arya said. “It’s about time that the Starks become more than just a rumour again. You, me and Sansa, we _are_ alive. No more running. No more hiding.”

 

Jon was gazing at her fondly from a few feet away, watching as she moved fluidly, Needle in hand and eyes fixed on a spot across the yard. The men who had accompanied her followed her movements, somewhat encumbered by larger weapons, but powering through anyways. “The Faceless Men never could have wiped your identity away,” he told her. “You are far too powerful.”

 

Arya stopped momentarily to smile at him, eyes shining with the praise. He couldn’t help reaching out and mussing her hair. She was taller, a woman now, but she was still his little sister.

 

Sansa was holding a meeting with the lords that would remain behind, one of which was Littlefinger, unfortunately. “He’s in love with you,” Arya had said upon first seeing him with Sansa. “He wants you.”

 

“He was in love with Mother,” Sansa said dismissively. “To him, all I am is an image of her, a second chance for him. What he feels for me isn’t love; it is more of an obsession.” She hesitated. “He told me, after the battle, that he wants to rule Westeros with me at his side.” She turned sharply to Arya. “You can _not_ trust him, whatever he may say. Promise me that, Arya.”

 

Arya looked her sister in the eye. “I’m sworn to another queen,” she said firmly. “If he should try anything to rebel against her, there is nothing I can do but to rid the world of him. Believe me, Sansa, I will _never_ trust a snake like him.” The loyalty in those words left Sansa without any doubt that Arya meant exactly as she said.

 

It took less time than any of them expected to be ready to set off for Dragonstone. A raven was sent to inform Daenerys that Arya had reached Winterfell safely and would be returning with a small army of Northerners and Free Folk, and Jon Snow himself. Jon would discuss his being named King of the North in person with her. But now, they aimed to get there as quickly as possible, and Sansa would be left to rule Wintefell and the North. The men warmed to her when she told them of battle plans Ramsey had spoken of in her presence, memorized when he raved of his power and the futility of the Free Folk and Jon. “It is impossible to defeat me,” his voice echoed in her ears, as well as everything else he had once said. She could not rid him from her, but the pain he had caused her had faded, and he was but a memory.

 

Before Jon and Arya left, Sansa sent a raven to Castle Black. “Tell them of Arya and Daenerys Targaryen,” Jon instructed, “and tell them that I am riding with Arya to meet with her.”

 

The army left at dawn the next morning, Jon and Arya at the head, with Tormund and Davos just behind, and Lyanna Mormont between the two men. Sansa watched from the wall until they were out of sight, and then she turned to Lord Manderly. “I don’t know much of fighting,” she told him, “but it is my intention to have every man assessed. Will you help me? No one is to be unprepared.”

 

“Of course, My Lady,” the older man said.

 

“Then let’s begin.”

 

**

 

When night fell and the group set up a (large) camp, Arya stood in the light of the biggest fire and went through the motions of her waterdancing. Jon sparred with some of the Mormont men, and for an hour or so the army was split between following Arya or pairing off to spar for Jon. Guards were set, and the men retreated into their tents to sleep through the night, or until their turn to guard the camp came around. Jon shared a tent with Tormund and Davos, Arya with Lady Lyanna. She liked Lyanna Mormont, Arya decided; the girl was as young as Arya had been when she’d left Winterfell, but she seemed mature beyond her years. Before leaving, Arya had briefly summarized her life after escaping King’s Landing, but she didn’t tell them the details like Gendry and how the Hound had looked after her. But that first night, she answered Lyanna’s unhesitant questions, simply because she asked.

 

It took longer to get back to Dragonstone than it had to travel to Wintefell because of the much larger company, but they traveled swiftly, passing through a couple of villages along the way, but mostly sticking to an old, worn path that hadn’t been used in many years. Arya became as fond of Tormund as she was becoming of Lady Mormont, asking questions about his life beyond the wall. He told her the story of the bear and, when Jon was preoccupied, he told her about Ygritte, Jon’s Wildling lover. “She was the best archer I’ve ever seen,” he said gruffly. “Kissed by fire, that one. Was no wonder why your brother fell for her so quick.”

 

“What happened to her?” Arya asked softly.

 

“We attacked Castle Black, before we held a truce with the Night’s Watch,” Tormund said gravely. “She was killed by one of their archers.”

 

That night Arya sat next to Jon at the fire and quietly asked if he would tell her about Ygritte himself. He spoke so reverently, so sadly, that Arya had to whisper, “Was it worth it? Loving her, even though she died?”

 

“Every second,” Jon promised.

 

She wondered, not for the first time, if Gendry Waters was still alive.

 

**

 

The weather warmed the further south they went, but they took to the sea before they left the North. Lord Manderly had sent a raven to White Harbor instructing them to give the army enough ships to sail comfortably, and within two days of reaching the harbor they were sailing away from the coast. The winds were favorable, driving them quickly south, and Arya couldn’t help her smile as every face turned to the sky one morning. Jon stared in awe at the dragon that flew over their heads, swooping low to ruffle the sails of the ship he and Arya sailed. “That’s Viserion,” Arya told him as Ghost howled. A few feet away, for the first time, Lyanna Mormont looked childlike with wonder, reminding Arya that she was just a young girl.

 

Every day after that, Viserion was spotted at least once, and as the weather warmed even further, a second joined him. “Rhaegal,” Arya said, and when the Ironborn Caleb determined that they were within two days of Dragonstone, the third. “Drogon.” Jon noticed the change in Arya’s tone. “Daenerys is his rider. He was named for her husband, the great Khal Drogo.”

 

And then the island and its fortress came into view, magnificent even in its desolate state. All three dragons flew overhead to land on the beach, each one shrieking what could be welcome, and a small crowd began to gather, growing in size as the tiny fleet pulled in alongside the Iron Fleet and the army began to disembark.

 

Arya paid no mind to the men staring, but led the way to Daenerys Targaryen, standing tall with Tyrion and Barristan at her side and Asha and Theon just behind. She stopped a few feet away, with Jon next to her and Lady Mormont, Tormund and Davos behind them. She bowed her head. “Your Grace.”

 

Jon went stiff next to her, and it took but a split second for Arya to figure out why. She reached for his wrist, but it was too late, and Jon said, “Queen Daenerys, please forgive me, but introductions must wait,” as he walked forward and punched Theon in the face.


End file.
